


Unrequited

by thatgayshipper



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:51:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9253538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgayshipper/pseuds/thatgayshipper
Summary: What can I say? I fell in love with the perfect boy.





	1. Unrequited

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I have posted EVER, so I wanted it to be something emotional, something I can be proud of.

I remember the first day I saw you. It was the second half of our senior year of high school, and you had just moved from Indiana. You looked like an Indianian, pink-cheeked and brown-with-a-bit-of-red-haired, Irish and hot in a specifically Midwest, _foreign_  way. _**Jason**_. You were in just one of my classes, Government and Economics, and although the class seemed boring, I should've known from then on that I would be looking forward to it everyday.  
I remember the days I should've talked to you. The teacher didn't assign seats, but a lot of the students assigned themselves a specific seat. You and I, however, had general areas of the classroom that we sat in, and mine _happened_  to be close to yours.  
I remember the first day you talked to me. You asked your friends for a pencil. I already had my pencil pouch out, so I handed you one. You said thanks. I nodded. After class, you gave it back, saying thanks again. I smiled, nodded and squeaked. What!?! I thought you were really hot!  
I remember the day I started talking back to you. The teacher always encouraged discussion of the news presented each day. You and I mostly had opposing views. I had always been one to participate and share my opinion if no one else will, but now I wanted to know your opinion. I wanted to know what mattered to you, and how your brain worked. I valued your opinion even when I opposed it.  
I remember the day I should've realized I loved you. I'm usually not a confrontational person, but I wanted to debate against you so bad. Missing class and all the wonderful points you must've made made me want to cry. Even if we were actually on the same side that time.  
I remember the day I showed you my feelings in my own special way. You fell asleep in class all the time, but you were the teacher's favorite, and you participated when you were awake, so it was fine. You would snuggle up in the armchair in the back row in the middle of the classroom that the teacher saved for students that said something of particular value, which is fair enough, as you were awarded the seat the most often, and just fall asleep. Your friends, who sat in the corner a few seats behind and to the right of me, woke you on multiple occasions by dropping books on nearby desks. Once the whole class tried to pull that classic prank and leave you asleep in the classroom, but you woke up when most of us were still crowded at the door. But one day I decided to do it. You were snoring softly, and it was so cute. I gently tapped your shoulder. "Hey, it's time to go." Your left hand reached up and grabbed the baseball cap off your face, as your right raised and ran through your hair. It didn't need to be fixed, but you probably liked that some dweeb who never had a chance liked you. You just tried to look good for everyone.

I remember the day when I realized I'd never have a chance with you. It was prom, and I hated dressing formal, but I'd found something secondhand I could stand. I'd considered asking you or somebody else or anybody at all to be my date, but of course I hadn't. I saw you at the beginning of the night, looking fine as hell in your burgundy suit, because red really is a good color on you, standing with your friends, planning to dance with somebody by the end of the night. I sat watching over my friends' and acquaintances belongings for most of the time. When I finally got up to dance at the end of the night, I saw you dancing with some beautiful girl in a shiny new dress, makeup done perfectly with the perfect touch of diamond jewelry. I danced with my best friend and a gay friend of hers. Not wanting to feel heartbroken over you, I convinced myself of having a crush on that boy and forgot about you.

  
I remember the day I said goodbye to you. It was finally the day of graduation, and all the seniors met in the gymnasium in suits and dresses and various levels of preparedness to walk out there and graduate. You wore a suit with a turquoise bowtie and bustled about between all your friends, saying your goodbyes. The graduation cap looked as stupid on you as it did on everyone, but I thought you were cute. I said some goodbyes and found my nose running and my eyes watering. I went and sat with my friend, a perfect gentleman, but, of course, I never fell for him. I fell for you. Seeing you socializing for the last time with these people I'd known for years and never talked to reminded me why I loved you. It was superficial, but at least you were a breath of fresh air in a town that I seldom left. You're beautiful and bright and going places because you've been places. You know the world. You know what you want to do, and you're going to get there.

Or so I thought. Just because it's nice here, doesn't mean you have to stay here. You'll get stuck here. Don't show your grandparents around. Don't go to the community college. If you're going places, go. Don't stay and let me think I still have a chance. Leave so I'll wish I could too. Please. I love you too much to watch this town waste you away.


	2. His View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I may be new here, but I know exactly what's going on. This school is like every other school, but this time I couldn't help falling for someone.

A new school always starts off as a sea of faces. I should know; I've moved around and been to enough schools. Starting part way through the year always means the same thing: standing in front of a classroom full of new but similar faces and saying, "Hi, I'm Jason. I moved here from..." wherever it was that time. For the second half of my senior year I moved from my hometown in Indiana to a suburban California town. Don't believe the hype: California isn't too different from (or much better than) the rest of the country, particularly as a straight white male in the suburbs.

There's all the same type of people in California, but the weird ones aren't considered so weird. There's emos, Asians, African-Americans, gays, lesbians, and even trans people everywhere, but they're a little more common in California. What's rare in the Midwest, the South, and everywhere else I've been, is people who you can really see are somewhere in between stages of lesbian or gay and straight... or _normal_ and trans. (I'm using the terms I would've used back then, so try to bare with my ignorance.)

My last class, Government and Economics, on my first day at this new school started with this girl with short hair talking to me while we waited for the teacher to show up. She wasn't wearing any makeup and didn't have on anything particularly nice, just jeans and a t-shirt. But why should she? This was just another day for her. I found some guys who were the same sporty type I was friends with back home and made quick friends. The teacher, a young guy, about my height, maybe mid-30s to 40s, finally showed up, and we all entered the classroom. All the rest of the students found their seats while I followed the teacher to his desk. He unpacked his bag and eventually turned around and noticed me. "Jason, I presume?" he said, full attention on me now. 

Something about him gave me the impression that he was a coach and not someone to piss off just yet. "Yes, sir," I replied.

"Seats are not assigned, so sit anywhere. Would you like me to introduce you, or would you like to?"

"I can, sir."

"Alright, just wait a minute 'til class starts."

I walked over to the guys I'd met outside and laid my backpack down at an empty desk. The girl I met sat two seats in front of me. The bell rang and I went back to the front of the classroom. The teacher clapped and said, "Alright, guys, we have a new student joining us for the rest of this year," and then he gestured to me.

"Hi, my name's Jason. I just moved here from Indiana." It was the same speech as always, and I never really got nervous.

I took my seat, and the class started. I learned that everyday we'd copy down some important points that the teacher picked out from the news of the day. Then we wrote our take on it, because it was usually controversial and shared our views if we wanted. Afterward we started on whatever Government and Economics curriculum we were on. It was easy enough stuff. This would probably be the class I could fall asleep in without worrying.

 

In the next few days I got to know some people's names. My friends were Zack, Evan, David, Eric, and Mike, and the girl was Brayden.

Zack, who was sitting next to me one day, whispered, "You know, that's not her real name," during roll call.

"Huh?"

"Brayden. That's not her real name."

I just nodded. Why was he telling me this?

He just continued, "I can't remember what her real name is, but Brayden isn't her middle name either. She had to spell it out the first day."

"That's weird," I replied. "So she's... a dude?"

"I don't care. I'm not calling her a guy," he paused, "but in the other class I have with her, the teacher ... called her a guy."

California's weird.

 

I realized in the next few weeks the guys changed seats a lot but always kept to the back corner. I shuffled around too and got to be pretty good friends with them. It may have been a small classroom, but Brayden always sat nearby. 

I had got into a rhythm where I would copy down the news, share my opinion, which Brayden usually disagreed with, then end up falling asleep in the recliner the teacher kept for good students. 

A few days in a row we had a subtistute come in, an old balding man with interesting stories about his life and pretty moderate views compared to most teachers, and I couldn't sleep through the class anymore.

Everyday the sub would call our names, mispronouncing every other name, but always calling  _Virginia_ to which Brayden would quickly correct him.

On the first day with the sub Zack said, "I told you, man. That's not her name!" over a few of our friends' conversations.

I looked at ...her. She certainly didn't dress like she wanted to be called a girl.

The next few days I couldn't help but notice everything *coughs* she did. _She_ wore pants that weren't tight where it'd be uncomfortable on a guy and loose t-shirts that hid what little chest 'she' had. One day **she** wore a sleeveless shirt, showing off -her- armpit hair. The next, Brayden took her(?) jacket off which showed off *her* arm muscles. Brayden had decent biceps and rather impressive triceps for a ...girl.

But my friends, Zack in particular, would just laugh when Brayden showed some ounce of femininity again by being shy or simply cleaning his glasses.

The teacher came back the next day, and class continued like normal, meaning I slept through it, but I found myself noticing Brayden outside of class now. Before I'd noticed in passing how he always kissed and made out with some lesbian-looking girl. Now I saw they had stopped kissing and were just close friends, however awkward that might be.

He wondered around day-after-day with a frown on his face, but what could I do about it?

One day the teacher was giving advice to some of us by telling about his teen years. It was a few months until graduation still, and we were all beginning to see the gravity of that. He told some of us guys that high school relationships usually lead to pointless heartbreak and should be avoided for the sake of our potential girlfriends' hearts. I already had that viewpoint and voiced that, but I know Brayden overheard the whole thing. I could tell he took it to heart from the semi-spaced-out look on his normally concentrated face for the rest of the class that day.

 

During the final week of school, the school held several events just for seniors. The senior picnic was a few days before graduation and took place at this beautiful ranch in the hills an hour's ride away from the school. There was a barbecue, a few eating areas, a pond for boating, a pool for swimming, a canopy to play pool and just relax under, and a field in the center that people hulahooped, played soccer or football, and just ran around on. I went around, spending a little time in each of the spots, following some of my friends as they followed the slightly more popular crowd.

I hadn't seen Brayden all day until my friends and I wound up at the pool. He was wearing a bikini top and a pair of swimming trunks, but seemed to have shaved off all the body hair I knew he was proud of. He must've been there a while, because the lifeguard trusted him to eat a popsicle on the grass and throw the trash out when he was done, whereas some of my friends were told they couldn't even bring popsicles near the pool. He didn't seem to have a lot of friends; he talked to some guy I'd heard was class president the year before, and had dated years before that, but they weren't close. Mainly he just swam back and forth under the water, getting interrupted by my friends and some other guys playing games and throwing a ball around. He made a friend and watched and messed with the dragonflies and goldfish in a little man-made pond with her until he was really sunburnt. He left for a while, probably looking for his real friends, only to find that they clearly didn't care for him enough to answer texts when there's so much fun to be had with their other friends. He came back and forgot to take off his glasses before getting back in the pool, only to immediately get back out and put them beside the pool and stomp back in full of shame. It was really one of the saddest and cutest things I've ever seen.

My friends and I left soon after to join the games of tug-of-war now going on in the center field.

I didn't see Brayden until it was time to leave the ranch. He seemed to have made a few friends by then: a boy and some ducks they were trying to pet. I walked past to get to the bus to go back to the school and go home. 

 

I saw him again before the graduation ceremony. I went around and talked to all the friends I'd made in such a short amount of time, wanting to keep so many of them close through our years in college. Of course Brayden wore a suit, sort of. It was probably the best he had, his parents likely not believing he was a guy. He "forgot" his tie and, like myself, borrowed one from the principal who was handing them out for just the reason of so many of us forgetting them. Brayden wandered around for a little while, hoping to find some friend of his, likely his ex, because he still loved her in a way, who might be able to tie his tie. He soon returned the tie to the principal who offered to tie it for him, but he had simply given up. He eventually found a friend of his who luckily had tissues, because now he seemed to be  crying. They sat in the bleachers looking from above at all the people they'd apparently only casually known for four years. Those two outcasts didn't feel they knew many people well enough that they needed to say goodbye, and here I was, wishing I could keep more of them in my life after having known them for less than 6 months.

For some reason, Brayden tended to look at me more than a lot of the others. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to make me acknowledge my feelings right then, and confirm that he felt the same when it's already too late? Was that his shy but wise way of saying goodbye?

 

After graduation I realized I wasn't ready to move away from this place I'd miss so much, so I went to the better community college in the area that, as it turns out, most people from my high school don't go to. I know I changed his mind on a few choice topics in class, but I really believe Brayden, a gentle and naive kind of guy, taught me something I nedded in my life: the maturity to see that the world is not black and white.

 

I still see Brayden like some of my posts on social media, but otherwise, the only man I think I'll ever love is out of my life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like Jason and Brayden weren't fully-fledged characters before, but a love story deserves an understanding of both sides. Jason remembers some different moments and some of the same. They think differently, and as such, structure sentences differently, and fall in love in their own ways.  
> Let me know what you think :D  
> *heavy sigh of just having put something that means something to me out for you and the rest of the world to see*


End file.
